Chapter 2 #3
“Exhausted,” Ranger answered honestly. He’d never been a nap taker, but he was craving one now. Especially because he still had his first AA meeting to go to today.
Entering his first-floor bedroom, Ranger looked around. Nothing had changed, like he’d gone on a weekend vacation instead of a three-month stint in rehab.
“Why don’t you put your bags down, and then come to the kitchen?” his mom offered. “I can make you a sandwich. That’ll perk you right up.”
Ranger appreciated the offer—he really did—but his mom’s answer of “food fixes all” was not currently what he needed. “Not right now. My sponsor will be here in about an hour and a half. I think I just need some time to decompress and maybe close my eyes for a bit.”
Loretta bit her lip, worry suddenly on her face. Ranger didn’t know if she knew the details of his relapse, but from the way her eyes flicked to his bathroom, he guessed she did.
Approaching his mom, he cupped her face before kissing her forehead.
“I’m good, Ma. I don’t have a heroin dispenser in my bathroom.
Ghost would have destroyed what I bought that night, and I’m sure they’ve also gone over my bedroom with a fine-tooth comb to ensure I don’t have anything else hidden. I just want to take a nap, Ma.”
She nodded stiffly. “I suppose that’s fine. I really need a list of dos and don’ts.”
Ranger knew she meant well, but he wasn’t a child.
He wasn’t incapable or incapacitated, and as much as he loved his mom, the last thing he needed right now was her babying him.
But today was not the day for that conversation.
Especially not after he’d denied her visitation to the rehab center for three months.
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his ninety day chip that he’d received the day before.
He lifted her hand between them before putting the chip on her palm and folding her fingers over it.
Bending his head, he kissed her knuckles.
“I’m good, Ma. I swear. You can leave the door open if that makes you feel better. ”
“Don’t be silly,” she scoffed, though he saw her hand tighten over the chip. “I put a baby monitor on your nightstand so I can watch you sleep.”
Startled by this, Ranger quickly looked over his shoulder at his nightstand. Where no baby monitor sat. Turning back to his mom, he saw her smiling up at him.
“You kept me away from you for three months. You deserve some payback,” she stated before reaching up to pat his cheek. “Sleep well, baby.”
Chuckling lightly, Ranger closed the door after her.
Seeing his cell phone on the charger next to his bedside lamp, Ranger sat on the edge of the bed to remove his boots.
All the while, avoiding looking at his bathroom door.
He knew eventually he was going to have to go in there, but it didn’t have to be now.
He’d made it home. That was enough for now.
* * *
At exactly six o’clock, Stuart Cross pulled up to the house.
The prospect at the gate, Marcus, had already given them the heads up that he was on his way.
Ranger had woken up from his hour nap to find a sandwich on his nightstand and half of a chocolate crunch peanut butter cookie.
Yeah, his mom knew how to hold a grudge while also showering him with unconditional love.
Though they’d spoken on the phone, this was the first time Ranger and Cross were meeting.
He lived close to Mount Grove, and sponsored several Mount Grove, Morgantown, and Cottonville residents.
Ranger did not remember how Colby said he knew Cross, but did recall that Colby and Cross had known each other for years.
Given their proximity and running in the same circle, that wasn’t that surprising.
What did surprise Ranger was Cross’s age.
He’d anticipated someone around his age, mid-thirties, but Cross was in his late fifties, maybe early sixties.
He had salty hair, a full beard, and a warm smile.
If he had a potbelly, Ranger could have equated him to Santa Claus.
Instead, the guy looked like he could bench press Ranger without breaking a sweat.
“Ranger?” For such a big guy, he had a soothing voice. Maybe after years of working with addicts, he’d learned to speak in a calming tone.
Ghost held out his hand. “Ghost,” he corrected the assumption. “Ranger’s my brother and enforcer. Come on in.”
Ranger felt like he was meeting a blind date or something. With Becks, Ghost, and his mom present as witnesses to ensure his virtue. He stepped forward as soon as Cross entered the living room. “I’m Ranger. Liam Fremont, but you can call me Ranger.”
Cross took his hand. “Stuart Cross. Good to meet you.”
Ranger appreciated that he didn’t call him “son”. “This is my sister, Becks,” he pointed to the couch, “and my mom, Loretta.”
Cross shook both their hands as they stood. Ghost none-too-subtly slipped his way next to Becks and locked his arm around her waist as Cross reached for her hand. But the man was polite enough that he didn’t comment or do anything ridiculous to challenge Ghost’s obvious claim.
“It’s great to meet all of you,” he said to the three of them. “Your support will mean everything to his recovery. The fact that you’re here, that you haven’t shunned him for his addiction, is no small feat. Do not underestimate your contribution.”
Becks frowned up at the man. “He’s my brother. I’d never ‘shun’ him, even if he was an addict by choice.”
Ranger winced at the classifier Becks added onto his condition.
He wasn’t an “addict not by choice”. He was an addict.
Full stop. Do Not Pass Go. Adding the classifier was an excuse, and while it might ease her guilt, it did not aid Ranger in coming to terms with his addiction.
It was like adding an addendum to his affliction.
He was an addict. No excuses, no modifications. He. Was. An. Addict.
Cross must have seen something in Ranger’s expression at Becks’ words, because he said, “You’d be surprised how quickly family members can remove their support, especially in this day and age with social media.
They show support to get likes and followers, but when that camera is off, their support vanishes, too.
But seeing all of you here, as well as what I understand is a very large extended family, you’ll see the difference, and hopefully, so will Ranger. ”
As everyone took their seats, Cross explained his own history.
“I was a child prodigy back in the eighties. Couldn’t give me an instrument I didn’t automatically know how to play without lessons.
But the pressures of my family and teachers became too much, and I needed an escape.
It was the eighties, so it’s not too surprising that I turned to cocaine.
By the time I was twenty, I was living on the streets, selling my body to anyone who would give me money just so I could get my next fix.
Fortunately, not many people showed interest in a six-three bean pole with no hygiene, and I ended up robbing a bank to get my next payday.
That failed, obviously. I was so high at the time, I couldn’t tell the bathroom door from the exit door, and the police found me trying to flush myself down the toilet, like they do in Harry Potter, to escape. ”
All four of them stared in stunned silence at this man’s confession.
“It’s okay,” he assured them. “You can laugh. I’ve come to terms with my own stupidity.”
Thank goodness for that permission, because none of them were able to hold back their laughter much longer. Once they were calmed down, Cross continued.
“I served seven years for armed robbery, but I don’t regret it. It got me clean and gave me the chance to start my life over. Got the chance to give back to the system that helped save my life, and now that I’m retiring in a couple of years, I’ll be able to help out even more.”
Ranger’s eyes narrowed. The man seemed too clean-cut, too goodie two-shoes. No one was that saintly.
Thankfully, Becks was on the same page as him because she crossed her arms over her chest. “What’s wrong with you?”
Cross blinked. “Excuse me?”
“What’s wrong with you? I’m not buying the Good Samaritan act. No one is that saintly,” she defended, echoing Ranger’s thoughts exactly.
Cross raised a silver eyebrow at her. “Did you miss the part where I am an addict and tried to teleport myself out of a bank robbery through a toilet?”
Becks scrunched up her face and leaned over to Ranger next to her. “I’m still suspicious.”
Ranger bit the inside of his mouth before leaning over and kissing her forehead. “Don’t worry, little sis. I’m sure I’ll get plenty of dirt on him soon enough.”
To Ranger’s surprise, Cross did not get offended by their exchange or Becks’ accusations.
“This right here,” he said, pointing back and forth between Ranger and Becks.
“This is exactly what you need in your life, Ranger. The best thing your family can do for you is treat you normally. You’re not fragile.
Joke, have fun, live your life.” Especially to Becks, he added, “He’s going to have good days and hard days.
Your job isn’t to fix the hard days. Just be present for them. ”
Becks studied the older man for several seconds before she let out a long sigh.
“Ugh. Fine. I guess I kind of like you.” She laced her fingers through Ranger’s without looking away from Cross.
“I need you to swear to me, though, that you’re going to take care of my brother.
I recently got like twenty-two other brothers, but he’s my first and my favorite. I’d hate to have to replace him.”